A world full of magic, a quiet country lane,
Ears that flicker, a fine tossing mane.
Pointed toe, a clean pair of heels,
The squeak of harness, the light creek of wheels.
A vista with birdsong or just time to muse,
Gentle walk, generous trot, from each I can choose.
In springtime my beauties we feel frivolous and gay,
In summer we'll meander on a glorious day.
Ears that flicker, a fine tossing mane.
Pointed toe, a clean pair of heels,
The squeak of harness, the light creek of wheels.
A vista with birdsong or just time to muse,
Gentle walk, generous trot, from each I can choose.
In springtime my beauties we feel frivolous and gay,
In summer we'll meander on a glorious day.